


Early Morning Harmony

by feelthenoiz



Category: Classicaloid (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Motsu-kun February, Tumblr contest, classica-mozart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelthenoiz/pseuds/feelthenoiz
Summary: Mozart has been waking up in the middle of the night without explanation, and Beethes helps him to get his sleep back to normal... in a special way."Motsu-kun February" entry ♡





	

He stared into the ceiling for a long time, remaining silent. He closed his eyes again, trying to go back to sleep for maybe a third time since he opened his eyes, but it was in vain. It was early morning, probably around three o'clock, and as it had been happening from time to time during that last month, he woke up startled, sweating cold.

He sat down on the bed, removing the pink strands of hair that prevented him from seeing appropriately, and threw the sheets back. Maybe going out for a night walk was not a bad idea, to clear his mind from the pile of memories that had been crowding daily, none of them clearly. Only some sensations, that were to be endearing. Stroking the back of someone's neck, kissing their lips, feeling the warmth of the opposite body at the moment of sleep... He had forgotten how strong that need of physical contact was for him, and it seemed as if this rain of memories wa trying to revive it with as much or equal strenght as in the past.

He took a deep breath before leaving the room. He did not know what he was going to do. For the last few days he had stared at the ceiling until sleep had returned, or at least until the rain of memories had ceased to torment him. But now that he was there, walking around the mansion calmly, he didn’t know how to keep his mind occupied. He needed to go back to sleep.

 

"Maybe I’m hungry," he thought aloud, walking straight down the stairs to the kitchen.

 

In Otowakan the silence was even chilling at night. But for Mozart, a ClassicaLoid who seemed to have no sense of danger, was nothing special. That's why he was not surprised by the metallic rattle that came from the kitchen. On the contrary, he began to walk on tiptoe, looking for the perfect opportunity to scare anyone who was inside the room. After going down the stairs and reaching the first floor, he looked toward the kitchen, discovering that it’s light was turned on, and smiling with mischief he walked straight to the door.

He opened the door with extreme care, trying not to make a sound to go unnoticed, and looking inside to see who his victim was, he saw Beethoven's tall, toned silhouette. Deep sigh; of all the people who lived in that house, he had foundd the hardest of them all. Another idiot who seemed to have no sense of danger, like him. But he shook his head, convinced that he could scare the silver-haired guy, at least a little. He walked on tiptoes until he was behind him, and after a moment's preparation, he raised his voice, shouting. "NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."

 

Beethoven turned around as if it had been nothing. "Ah, it was you, Wolf," the green-eyed man said indifferently.

Mozart dropped his shoulders, surrendered. "Mooh, I knew you wouldn’t be scared."

"Was I supposed to be scared?" Beethoven looked at him uncomprehendingly, lowering the flame of the kitchen, where he had a small pan.

"At least a little surprised, but it doesn’t matter." The pink-haired leaned one hand on the kitchen counter, while the other lifted the lid of the small pan. From the smell, so characteristic, it was evident that the older one was preparing his favorite dish: Jet Black Harmony. But still, there was a question. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I couldn’t sleep, so I came to prepare gyozas," replied the taller one, while preparing the dough for the mentioned snack.

"It's very much like you," said the blue-eyed, laughing slyly at the answer.

"And you?" Beethoven asked, watching him as he continued his work.

"I woke up a while ago and I got bored in the room, so I came downstairs to see if I could eat something."

"Insomnia, eh."

"Something like that, I don’t know. And I don’t care too much either." Mozart shrugged, dismissing the importance of the fact that he had not slept normally for several days. And all because of those memories... He shook his head, looking at his companion with a wide smile. "Hey, can I help you prepare them? The gyozas. "

"It is not necessary," he flatly refused.

The pink-haired changed his cheerful expression to one of total disappointment. He had refused his help! But he was not going to give up. He really needed to keep himself busy with something. "Eeeeeh? Come on, I can do it!"

"You'll get bored in five minutes," said the silver-haired, recalling the shortness of Mozart’s concentration when they prepared gyozas for Kanae on her birthday.

"Of course not! I need to keep myself entertained until I feel sleepy! ", he raised his voice, capricious. Beethoven stopped the kneading, looking at him with the seriousness that had always characterized him.

"Do you know how to do them?" he asked.

Mozart raised his thumb, smiling with complete confidence. "Of course!"

"Then it's okay," he agreed, turning his gaze to work with the dough. "But do not touch the kitchen, or you can burn the stuffing."

"Lud-kun... You're not the right person to tell me that," Mozart chuckled as he spoke, looking at Beethoven, who was not even slightly offended.

 

When they started working on the gyozas, it was not past three-fifteen in the morning. But between the games and the nonsense conversations they held while they were making them, they did not notice when the clocks were four o'clock in the morning. They had finally finished frying the last gyozas, and Mozart arranged a few on a plate with the other condiments, ready to eat. He left only a few aside to eat immediately, by order of Beethoven, the chef on duty. With that, he set the dish in the refrigerator, making room for the rest of the vegetables Kanae had bought at the convenience store in the afternoon.

 

"Let’s eat!"

"Let’s eat."

 

Beethoven and Mozart divided the gyozas in equal quantities, eating them with illusion. Although Mozart didn’t say it loud, that dish was one of his favorites. It was an immediate memory of when they had been released from Arkhé, and by none other than their own creator. And Beethoven was grateful that Sousuke had brought home those sweets for Kanae, for it had been thanks to them that he had found again that flavor which always drew in both him and Mozart a smile of satisfaction.

 

"Aaaah, this would be great with a cup of matcha tea," Mozart said as he leaned his back on the kitchen counter. Beethoven looked at him as he took the last gyoza left on his plate to his mouth.

"Sometimes I think it was fate who took us to those tea fields," murmured Beethoven, leaning his body on the countertop of the kitchen, where dirty dishes and containers were still piling up.

"I wonder if there's any tea left out here... I really want to drink some!"

"It’s a bad idea". Beethoven brought the last piece of gyoza to his mouth, eating it calmly.

"Eeeeh? Why?" Mozart took the penultimate of his gyozas for a bite, staring at the silver-haired with a pout on his lips.

"Kanae has said before that matcha tea late at night is not good, because instead of causing ypu sleep it reactivates you, with a similar effect than coffee." Beethoven left the empty plate beside him, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes thoughtfully. "Although a few days ago I tried the combination of coffee with gyozas... And no, it was not what I was looking for. The taste of the gyozas, the symphony that provokes in the mouth of the one who consumes is totally obscured by the strong flavor of the coffee. It needs something soft, something that doesn’t stand out more than gyoza’s flavor, because gyozas by themselves are art..."

 

And he began to ramble. Like he hadn’t done since a long time. The speech of the harmony of tastes of gyozas and their cooking came back from his lips; he repeated every detail of it’s preparation step by step, also talking about coffee and why people shouldn’t mix both. And while the silver-haired continued to chatter ceaselessly, Mozart ate calmly his last gyoza. For the first time since they had gone to Otowakan, he was looking at him excitedly talking about his great obsession, paying particular attention to the way his frown tightened and distended at inhuman speeds. And of course, technically speaking, they were not. They were ClassicaLoids. But no matter where he saw it, they were humans.

Beethoven was still talking, while Mozart was still silent, watching him move his lips quickly. Was it just his idea, or Beethoven had thin lips, as he was a man? He continued to stare at them for a while, now making a ridiculous comparison between the rough features of his face and the thinness of his lips.

And then, a stupid idea came to his mind.

 

"Hey, Lud-kun." Mozart folded his arms, now staring into the green eyes of the other. "Can I try something?"

"Hm?" The silver-haired reacted to Mozart’s question barely raising his eyes. "What?"

"Close your eyes for a moment."

 

Beethoven looked at him a little confused, but he listened to the indication given by the pink-haired  by keeping his crossed arms in front of his chest and frowning, as always. Mozart, on the other hand, approached him, and looked curiously at the lips of his companion. They were beautiful. Thin, but not too tight, and up close they seemed even softer than he had originally thought. And after making sure that Beethoven still kept his eyes closed, he joined his lips to the other's for a short moment, separating himself from him almost immediately. As he moved away from him, he stared thoughtfully at Beethoven, while the silver haired only reacted by opening his eyes and staring back at him in surprise.

 

"Wolf ...?"

"One more."

 

Mozart didn’t wait for the other to close his eyes this time, and kissed him again with some more energy, without expecting any reaction from the other. But to his surprise, after a couple of seconds, Beethoven kiss him back. The dampness of the lips of the other was intoxicating; it tasted like Jet Black Harmony. Mozart put one of his hands on the lower part of the nape of Beethoven’s neck, and continued to kiss him with the same delicacy as before, without any complaint from the silver-haired one. He walked away for a very brief moment, his eyes narrowing only to discover that Ludwig had closed them too. And he kissed him again, after recovering the lost air. Mozart’s thin arms surrounded the opposite neck, leaning against the leather of the other's jacket, while, unconsciously, Beethoven surrounded the waist of the pink-haired musician, attracting his body to his own a little. Why did he do it? Because it was slightly nostalgic. In his chest a pair of barks exploded in him a series of bittersweet memories, which at that moment were of no more importance than the fact that Mozart's lips were soft and sweet, a fatal combination for him. He did not remember having experienced anything similar before. Mozart rested his feet on the floor, hanging from the shoulders of the other, thus undoing the kiss with the elder. And he stood there, still, looking into his eyes without saying a word. He released the grip of the opposite clothing, and Beethoven in turn let go of Mozart’s body as well.

Mozart took off from him as if nothing out of the world had happened, taking both dirty dishes to leave them in the dishwasher, still silent. Beethoven, on the other hand, only looked at him with curiosity, not fully understanding what had just happened. The pink-haired continued to take the dirty dishes, leaving them in the dishwasher, but without intending to wash any of them. And only once all the dishes were out of sight, he remained still, returning to the same position in which moments before he ate his gyozas. They did not utter any word for a moment. Curious glances were exchanged from time to time, until the clock at the entrance struck five in the morning. Then Beethoven asked, folding his arms as he spoke.

 

"Where did that come from?"

"It was a whim of mine," commented Mozart, looking at Beethoven with the same playful expression as always. "Did you dislike it?"

"No," confessed the silver-haired.

Mozart smiled. "Can I do it again another day?"

"No." The older man looked away as he closed his eyes, seemingly indifferent.

"Eeeh? That’s not fair~ It looked like you were enjoying it, Lud-kun." He walked with his hands on his back until he was in front of his partner's eyes once more.

He opened his eyes, only to utter, in a deep voice, a dry "I am not a fan of surprises."

"Okay, okay~" Mozart sighed, dropping his shoulders. He knew that forcing him would not lead to anything. He knew Beethoven well enough to know it. "I'll go and try to sleep again," he said, bringing both hands together behind his neck as he walked up the stairs.

"Rest," whispered Beethoven, before turning to the empty bags of Hamanoya’s miso and flour.

 

He took them in his hands, walking toward the trash can. But Ludwig van Beethoven could not throw them away at once. His first action after feeling the door of the kitchen closing, now aware that Mozart was no longer seeing him, was to cover his lips. What had that been? It was an endearing sensation, which created electric shocks that began appearing in his chest and suddenly spread all over his body, and undoubtedly it was something he didn’t expect to remember, even less in that way. What was Mozart thinking?

On the other hand, Mozart was not much better. As soon as he closed the kitchen door behind him, he continued his walk toward the staircase, hurrying minute by minute, almost running up the stairs. He opened the door of his room quickly, being careful not to slam it shut, and buried his face in the pillow. There was heat on his cheeks, and a clumsy smile was drawn on everything he could call face. That was what he wanted to revive. The sweetness, the tenderness and the innocence of lips that knew how to give affection in the most precise measures. He could not believe that, despite looking for it all his past life, he had found the satisfaction of a first kiss with someone who he had never ever thought would be related to something like that.

Ludwig van Beethoven, that young musician promise he had heard so much in the past and that was now one of his closest friends, had made him experience the sweetness of a first kiss as he had always idealized it. A kiss that knew how to remove in him the most innocent and pure fiber that he had, and that he had always considered as something non-existent. There was no promiscuity, no eroticism. Just a heat that flooded his chest for minutes that seemed eternal.

 

"Jeez, this is new," he said, before putting his head back on the pillow. If that was not what he wanted to remember, what else could it be? He closed his eyes, excited by how fast his heart was beating. And he did not open them again until the next day.

 

By the time Mozart woke up, Otowakan had long been in motion. He listened to Kanae's screams from the first floor, and when he looked at the time on the wall clock, he was surprised to discover that it was were approaching one in the afternoon. How long had it been since he slept until so late? But of course, he had been sleeping badly for a while. He had only devoted himself to recovering the lost rest. He dressed in his usual outfit, winking as he looked at himself in the mirror. He felt better. In a way, he had less weight on his shoulders.

He went downstairs to the first floor, still listening to Kanae's voice in a scolding tone, now coming from the kitchen. And from what he had understood, he was demanding Beethoven to replace the Hamanoya miso that she had bought a few days ago and which the silver-haired had used the night before, almost completely. Plus, she demanded that Sousuke accompanied the taller one to buy it, so that in the following opportunities Beethoven made use of his own miso, without needing to use the one she had bought.

Mozart skated past the kitchen, down the hall to the living room, picking up a fashion magazine Liszt had bought a couple of days ago. It was the fifth time he read it. He knew it almost by heart. He went back to reviewing the article about the care of fingernails with Kanae's scolding in the background, until they ceased from moment to moment. He turned partially to discover Sousuke suffering from the lack of money and whining to Beethoven, while the latter seemed indifferent to the scolding. After all, he did not think it was bad. He had not prepared gyozas just for him.

The whole day passed normally, and so did another couple of days. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, and Mozart had regained his usual sleep rhythm. But there was a small difference now, and that was that sometimes, when Sousuke went out to buy things at the convenience store, Beethoven went with him, only to go back home and tell Mozart when no one was around.

 

"Wolf."

"Hmm?" The pink-haired one turned on himself, somewhat surprised. And Beethoven lifted a bag with some kilos of flour and Hamanoya miso.

"I'll prepare gyozas at dawn. Harmony black jet. "

 

His expression, serious and indifferent in appearance, did not convey anything in particular. But Mozart's lips knew better than anyone else in that house that the facade concealed much more than it could be imagined.

 

"Understood," was always his response, along with a smile different from all the others. Maybe a little bit tender.

  
Mozart had other good reasons to be up at 3 am.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for classica-mozart's contest, "Motsu-kun February"! And I actually won???? I still can't believe it ;/////;
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it as much as Rei did! TOT
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! ♡

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Armonía de Madrugada](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798764) by [feelthenoiz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelthenoiz/pseuds/feelthenoiz)




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